Another Try At Poetry: Driving the Wreck

Driving the Wreck          

Belief and experience

careen across expanses of desert together,

such that landscape,

          as these two blow by in your mind’s automobile,

          may become whatever desire describes despite a lifetime of cynical experiences.

Of course, this depends on the color of opaque cloth

dawn down across belief’s sharp eyes and mouth,

as this serves to shield years of trying experience from knowing better.

Most of us know that dreams dance long,

occupying the stage of  the mind and its labors;

           but the dance and this long drive through the desert

           brings a selective amnesia,

and the drive itself casts another shaded,

comely covering, taking both hostage

and landing the jalopy in a borrow-ditch.

Perhaps the spells of beauty, or love,

or change and hope,

are worth the effort

of pulling the wreck out of the ditch

and moving on;     

            but this time with old man experience at your side

and dame belief lolling in the back.